mber Watson,
feeling that the course of events might bring them together again.

"I suppose it's as you say," he said. "You're a man of affairs and you
ought to know."

Watson smiled at him. Dick felt that the contractor had been telling
the truth when he said that he was inclined to like him. Perhaps he was
honest and supplied good materials, when others supplied bad.

"You will shake hands with me, Mr. Mason," he said. "You think that
I will be hostile to you, but maybe some day I can prove myself your
friend. Young soldiers often need friends."

His eyes twinkled and his smile widened. In spite of his appearance and
his proposition, something winning had suddenly appeared in the manner
of this man. Dick found himself shaking hands with him.

"Good-bye, Mr. Mason," said Watson. "It may be that we shall meet on the
field, although I shall not be within range of the guns."

He left the lobby of the hotel, and Dick was rather puzzled. It was
his first thought to tell Colonel Winchester about him, but he finally
decided that Watson's own advice to him to keep silent was best. He and
Colonel Winchester took the train from Washington the next day, and on
the day after were with Pope's army on the Rapidan.

Dick detected at once a feeling of excitement or tension in this army,
at least among the young officers with whom he associated most. They
felt that a storm of some kind was gathering, either in front or on
their flank. McClellan's army was now on the transports, leaving behind
the Virginia that he had failed to conquer, and Pope's, with a new
commander, was not yet in shape. The moment was propitious for Lee and
Jackson to strike, and the elusive Jackson was lost again.

"Our scouts discover nothing," said Warner to Dick. "The country is
chockfull of hostility to us. Not a soul will tell us a word. We have to
see a thing with our own eyes before we know it's there, but the people,
the little children even, take news to the rebels. A veil is hung before
us, but there is none before them."

"There is one man who is sure to find out about Jackson."

"Who?"

Dick's only answer was a shake of the head. But he was thinking of
Shepard. He did not see him about the camp, and he had no doubt that he
was gone on another of his dangerous missions. Meanwhile newspapers from
New York and other great cities reflected the doubts of the North. They
spoke of Pope's grandiloquent dispatches, and they wondered what had
become